


Memory Boy

by come_on_eileen



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Break Up, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-17 11:28:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8142098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/come_on_eileen/pseuds/come_on_eileen
Summary: The story takes place after Simon and Baz break up. 5 years past and now Simon is coming back to London. Only to find out that Baz is living in his old apartment.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I ended "Carry On" last week and I just can't stop thinking about Baz and Simon. I just can't let them go. So I've decided to write a story about them, just to keep them in my mind a bit longer. It is probably stupid, because I am not even a native English speaker.  
> Thanks for reading this! I really means a lot.  
> And Carry On, everyone

 

 

 

>  “I’ve got to get out of here. I choose a piece of shawl and my dirtiest suntans.I’ll be back, I'll re-emerge, defeated, from the valley; you don’t want me to go where you go, so I go where you don’t want me to.It’s only afternoon, there’s a lot ahead. There won’t be any mail downstairs. Turning, I spit in the lock and the knob turns.”
> 
> _Meditation in Emergency_ by Frank O’Hara

**Simon**

I am going back to London. I am going home. It is funny how flying airplane makes you think about thing. As if it really was some kind of a new beginning, as if landing somewhere is a starting point.

I remember leaving, or maybe even running like someone might say.

The thing is that I was not running from you, I was just running to something else. Something else beside disappointment in your eyes, something else beside my forever sadness, I just had to change something, I couldn't leave the things the way they were. That slow drifting apart, that killed me the most. Yeah, right, Simon Snow just took his imaginary sword and tore everything apart in one move.

I left to United States together with Penny. By that time it was the only thing to do. Scholarship in MIT, and M doesn't stand for Magic here. I remember how you used to roll your eyes and say

"Mathematics is for _Normals_ , Snow".

But really it was the only thing that kept me from total despair. For once something else besides magic that I might be good at. Plus Penny was really into it, together we created a totally new approach called now Magical Models Programming. And it's something where I write a lot of computer code and Penny creates Magical Models to calculate. Actually it became so good that in few years we created our own startup company. And whole thing is much more funnier than it sounds, there are just a bunch of nerds like me and we are Programming a lot of cool high tech magic stuff. Just imagine. We became so hip that even London tries to sign us now, that's why I am going, that's why I am coming back.

I shut my iMac, or as Penny likes to call it iMag, take a deep breath and close my eyes. I try to remember your face, but all can see are your cold eyes, when I am telling you that I am leaving, that this will be better for both of us.

"Fine, leave," you said then, "but don't expect some drama from me, don't expect me sobbing and don't expect me waiting, just not my style, Snow."

We had some light emailing first, you letters were always so cool, yeah, just to remind that you are the cool one. And then at some point I started to getting news about you from somebody else (from Penny mostly). That you finished your uni, that you had some kind of existential trip to Asia, that you were away for awhile. And that is when our pour emailing stopped, you forgot about my birthday, about the day the Mage died, it was just silence on your end.

It's not like I was any better, I remember writing you a long cheesy email before my tail removal operation, the drugs started to kick back then, so I just wrote a lot of "I miss you" and "Wish I could see you in jeans again". Thanks God Penny deleted this email before I could send it.

Just before me leaving to the airport Penny said:

“Look, I have something to tell you, but please don't freak out. It's just that Baz is kinda living in our London apartment now. He came back, from his trip or whatever it was and he needed a place to crush so yeah, he is there now.”

”What? I ... Why... What???”

“Well, do you remember Baz, your ex-boyfriend? Dark-haired, slim, hot, vampire? The one you ran off from.”

“First of all I didn't ran of! We drifted, you know that! And are you telling me that he would be the first thing for me to face in London?”

“Well, Simon, it's not a big deal. You are all grownups now. At least he is. And you are just Simon, so stay calm and try not to kill him, or what is it called that you always try to do to each other.”

I roll my eyes.

“Well, seriously now,” she lows her voice a little bit, “I heard something about him, that you should probably know. I heard,” she takes a breathe, “that he is kinda on a _Dark Side_ now.”

 

* * *

 

5 hours later I am standing at the doors of my old London apartment.

No wonder that now I am tense, considering everything Penny said.

"Come on, Simon, it's not like you are 17 anymore, all wet and standing in the Pitches lobby. You are grown up now, you are cool, so come on." I tell myself.

 Finally I turn the key, open the door and come in. The room is not dark as I expected (guess being on a Dark Side doesn't mean been in a dark room after all). Baz is sitting on a sofa, sipping coffee, reading  Kafka (I mean of course he does) and listening some classic music, some fucking Bach or Beethoven. A few moments go by, as time stays still. Then he lifts up his head, looks at me.

“Hello, Snow,” he says and as always I can give about everything to know what he is thinking.

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

>  “Destroy yourself, if you don’t know!”
> 
> _Meditation in Emergency_ by Frank O’Hara

**Baz**

The phone rings. The fucking phone rings. Not the best thing you can hear the first thing in the morning been so bloody hell hangovered. Well not exactly first thing in the morning, more like a late noon actually. I look at the screen and fill myself a bit horrified - the number is international, and the first thing that pops in my head is maybe something happened to him. What if... hell, with that, so I just pick up the phone. It's Bunce and while I am lighting my first fag today she is telling me that _he_ is coming back.Which is the thing that I imagined so many times before, so many times that at some point it stopped making sense. You know, in real life nothing ever happens.

The first thing I do after hanging up is checking flight table to find out how much time do I have. He can't be here before eight I guess, so I have enough time to clean up. First of all this apartment is a mess, like things go so quickly out of hand when you eventually stop care about anything around you. The bad thing is a I am too hungover to do some cleaning magic. I am starting reel around apartment emptying ashtrays, picking empty and half-empty bottles and try to put things in some kind of order.

You are calm, you so damn calm, I tell myself, nothing could ever get to you, especially not this. I light another fag. Who cares that Snow coming back, it's not like I was sitting here all these 5 years waiting for him to come back. Now I will just make the best out of it, no matter that I do look much more trashed then this place, having last day clothes on, or maybe last last day clothes. That's on outside, in the inside there is also trash and emptiness.

Well, at least on the outside I can turn the light on.

I  change towels in bathroom, I pick out the trash, I take a shower. Finally I am standing in a center of a room thinking... now what.

Probably he will be hungry after the flight, after all it is Simon fucking Snow, of course he will be hungry. And I didn't have any normal human food here at least for a week. Maybe I should go get something.

And then I stop myself, it's not my fucking business anymore to make dinner for Simon Snow. We  are not boyfriends for 5 years. And at list for 3 year I didn't heard anything from him at all. First write emails when you have nothing to say at all, then celebrate his birthdays by buying a cake, through it in a trash and then getting wasted. Celebrate Mages day of death by getting wasted also.

When Simon left everything just shifted. He left and I stayed here, just sitting on a couch, reading books and waiting for him to come back. I mean, what else there was for me to do, just carry on. And this is exactly what I gonna do now.

Some time passes, I hear a door opens. He walks in and my heart skips a bit. I hope I look cool. At least I manage not to jump up right away or do anything else as stupid. For a moment I am afraid to look right up and when I do there he stands. He looks lost, as if maybe he walked in into the wrong apartment or like he doesn't recognize me.

“Hello, Snow”

“Hello, Baz.” He leans over the door and I just can't do anything with myself, but keep stare.

Is here older? I guess so, or at list there is something that looks different. Is his hair any different? God, I hope no. But he looks kind of defensive, as if what? I would tell him to fuck off right away? I wish.

There is one thing that didn't change for sure, his outfit looks just as ridiculous as always. Does he really come here wearing a plaid shirt and a gray hoodie?

“Snow, can your cloth be any  more cliché version of a tech guy outfit?”

He rolls his eyes, at list he relaxes a bit. Enough to take a few steps inside.

“And can you be any more cliché version of Baz, just sitting here Friday night reading some existentialist bullshit.”

“Well, Kafka is not exactly existentialist, as you might know.”

“Who cares, I bet it's still boring enough.” He smiles - and my heart skips a bit more.

Snow crosses the room and sits on the windowsill.

"Crowley, there are chairs in this room, you know."

He doesn't care to answer. Hands crossed just stares in window and starting to mumbling something his usual way.

“Look it's not like... I knew you would be here, but... Penny told me just before I was leaving and anyway...” He makes a pause looking lost and hopeless.

“What you are trying to say, is that you just can't stand a thought of not living with me in a same room, right, Snow?”

He sneers.

“Well if I am not welcome …”

“Just leave me out of your drama for once and bring your luggage back in.” I say, noticing that he only have a backpack (I bet he carries a keyboard there or something).

“There is no luggage. Got lost.”

Haha. Typical Snow's luck.

“Wait, so what you are saying is that all your adorable outfits with plaid shirts and t-shirts of terrible bands got lost somewhere on the way? What a relief.”

“You are too funny, Baz.”

“I can give you some proper cloth.” I make a pause. “If you are willing to stay.”

God, I am pathetic. I am so angry at myself, but all I can do is stare at my fucking cup and feel the phrase stack in the air. Somewhere between me and Snow. And why I just didn't shut the door and block it with my body and never let him to go.

“Ok, I'll stay." He says it easily and then adds, "do you maybe have something to eat?”

I roll my eyes, I smile inside. I knew it. Son of bitch is always hungry.

“No food here for you, Snow.”

He sighs.

“You could be a little bit more welcoming, you know.”

“Well, got plenty of alcohol, maybe care for a drink?”

“If it has any calories in it, I'll take it.” He nods and smiles a bit.

And I can't stop looking at him. I notice now, that he looks tired and has shadows under his eyes and blinks nervously every time our eyes cross. Shit, I should have made him a dinner after all. And I should have give him a hug. Instead I just stand up and cross my hands.

“Go take a shower, Snow. You look like a shit. And I will fix something up.”


	3. Chapter 3

> “How am I to become a legend, my dear? 
> 
> I’ve tried love, but that hides you in the bosom of another and
> 
> I am always springing forth from it like the lotus—the ecstasy of always bursting forth!”
> 
>  
> 
> _ Meditation in Emergency _ by Frank O’Hara

 

**Simon**

I am in the shower, letting the warm water run down my body. It feels like heaven. Whilst I am showering I look around for my shower gel. I can’t seem to find it, then I remember that this is  _ Baz’s _ shower. It's filled with his stuff, and probably even though he is still considering himself as a minimalist, the room is fucking loaded. And it has  _ black _ towels. I wonder, do you usually buy black things if you are shifting to a Dark Side?

He certainly does look like the grown-up version of himself. And I am afraid of looking at him, but not because I didn't see him for so long, but because he appears so different. Why does he always look away, and when our eyes cross, his are full of bitterness and fear and something that you start to have when you grow up.

I go out to find a drink waiting for me on the table. Baz is standing at the stove cooking something. (Oh Crowley, he is wearing jeans!)

"Snow please tell me that you are wearing something other than  _ just _ a towel, cause otherwise I don’t wanna turn around."

I stay silent because he’s right. I am only wearing a towel (black of course) and suddenly I feel pretty weird.

"Ok, stop creeping me out, I left some clothes for you on the sofa. I bet they’re fancier than anything you own."

I try the t-shirt on. It’s black (obviously) and there’s writing. It says:

"For people who haven't been kidnapped by fucking numpties" and it doesn't look fancy at all. I laugh.

"The birthday present from aunt Fiona." Baz grins.

But suddenly I don't feel like laughing. I think about all of the birthdays I missed and wonder which one it was.

Of course, I don’t say my thoughts aloud, I just go and sit at the table and take my drink.

"I thought there was nothing here for me?"

"You looked so shitty that I decided I should make you some quick fix."

"It's pretty good," I raise my glass and take another sip.

"Some say it's a best Aviation in Camden," Baz mentions casually.

"Don’t say that you started a side project of making cocktails."

The alcohol starts to work and I feel myself much more relaxing.

"Huh, yeah, it called bartending, Snow."

“You. Are. A. Bartender??” I spluttered almost spilling my drink all over myself.

"Yes." He raises his eyebrow.

Wow. Just wow. The Aviation really must be working because I can just see Baz making drinks, I imagine him cleaning glasses with towel, I imagine him in a white shirt standing at the front of the bar. I mean he has to be the hottest bartender ever. Ok, Simon, please stop, just take deep breath.

He brings me a plate full of grilled cheese sandwiches and as I eat, he makes me another drink.

"So what is this thing that you and Bunce are working on together? Is it some kind of a magic iPhone or whatever?"

"Not exactly, it's more like an algorithm we created. It analyses words and their order and puts them into spells. Like a Magic Artificial Intelligence. It's quite awesome actually."

Baz frowns sceptically, but I can see that he is interested, maybe he is thinking about putting some of his favourite Shakespearean sonnets into it and see what might come out.

"It can't do any heavy spells yet," I explain, "but we are working on it. We hope it might become something useful."

"Making spells with a computer, how  _ adorable _ , Snow."

"Wait, do you wanna see it? I can show you right now if you like." I reach for my backpack

"As much as I wanna stay and play games with you,  _ I _ have work to attend Snow."

"When will you come back?" Before I can control it, there is a disappointed sigh coming out from me.

"There, there, Snow. We can play later," his voice becomes softer, "and you need to sleep anyways."

He points to Penelope's old room.

"Your room is there."

I nod. And then it strikes me. So all this time Baz was living in my old room. Sleeping in my old bed. It makes my stomach twist. Not unpleasantly. But also I am upset that he is leaving. Already.

I try to sleep, but I can't. I hear Baz go out (is he really a bartender or is it just an excuse to sneak out at night?). Finally, I decide to work a little bit on iMag. I try and put some words in from Baz’s Kafka. But all it comes up with is a spell to make yourself feel miserable and why would you need it anyway if you can always just read this fucking book. I wish I could concentrate. I wish I could have another Aviation cocktail. And then I remember that Penny gave me some anti jet lag pills. I take a few and start to wander around the apartment. 

Eventually I end up in my old room, it looks the same, except that now there are Baz's things everywhere; his books on the floor, his clothes on the chair. His presence is in the air. The bed is in exactly the same place and I just sit on the edge of it. After all it's Baz's property now. 

But the pills mixed with the alcohol make me wanna do strange things, like lay down and grab the pillow and put it close to my face.  _ His _ pillow. I find myself so comfortable. I wonder, if I am finally at home. And then I fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Aviation is a cocktail of a slightly violet color made with gin and some rare liqueurs. Just to bring a bit of fanciness in SnowBaz first evening together. 
> 
> ** Big thanks to Apieceofpaper, who edited the shit out this chapter and made it look good.


	4. Chapter 4

“It is easy to be beautiful; it is difficult to appear so.”

_Meditation in Emergency_ by Frank O’Hara

 

**Baz**

Coming home after the night shift is the worst. The early morning kicks in and I smell like a hundred fags and a depression. Fuck this. I pour myself a drink and fall on a the couch. The apartment is dark and silent. Which means Snow fell asleep or ran away. Again. Whatever. I make a small fire to light my fag. Nowadays that's all my magic is good for. I inhale and take a sip of my drink. It's time to start my usual after work routine, which is to read and drink myself to sleep.

But then again maybe Snow didn't run away in the middle of the night, which means I have to face him in the morning, which means I have to be my usual fabulous self. So I guess I have to take a shower. I sigh. Is there a magic spell to stop a fag from disintegrating under the water? Maybe I should ask Snow's fucking Magic Artificial Intelligence machine.

Currently I hate the fact that the thought of him not being here when I come back horrifies me all over again. The old fear comes back in, the fear of losing him and I hate him so much for that. And I hate myself even more. But that's old news. Just how drunk should one get to stop feeling so pathetic?

After a very exhausting shower I crawl to my room just to find Simon Snow in my bed.

What.

The.

Fuck.

I am so angry. I wish I could throw him away, as well as the chunk of my life that I wasted on him. Together with all the memories, together with worst 5 years of my life without him. I start to shake him.

"Get out of my bed. Now!" I shout.

"Baz, is it you?" He tries to open his eyes and mumbles half-asleep, "Are you back?"

And then he grabs my hand.

"Please stay. I don't want you to leave."

I freeze.

I don't know how, but some of his words are still able to open some kind of magic portal between us. And can he look any more _perfect,_ just lying there all sleepy in _my_ bed. I lower myself down slowly until I’m lying on the bed, holding his hand in mine until he falls asleep again. I don't care where he has been, but the fact that he is here with me now, means _everything_.

Snow mumbles something sleepily again and turns over. And I can see terrible scars in the place where his wings used to be. They are huge and so scary and I can't even imagine what he has been through. I am the biggest fucking coward for letting him go and not being there when everything happened.  I remember the time when he was so broken and it seemed like nothing could fix him. Not even me, and what can the other people do anyway. The first year after the Mage died, he always had this look at his face like he wasn’t even here.

And now I know that he is the strong one, because I am a mess and he is ok. I mean, he made it, he made it despite everything. There is only one thing I can do. I put my hands around him and pull him closer, so that I cover his back with my chest. The scars don’t exist now, because they are hidden between our bodies.

“I missed you” I whisper.

I can't move, I lay still knowing that he is sleeping in my arms. God, can I please stay awake as long as possible, keeping this moment safe in a grey morning light?

 

* * *

 

When I wake up Snow isn't there. Wait, did I make a whole thing up or was he really in my bed last night? Anyway, one thing I am good at is pretending that nothing ever happened. I remember the plan I made yesterday to be my most fabulous self in the morning so I put on some of my favourite clothes.

“Honestly” I say to myself in the mirror “can anything look better than a black turtleneck sweater?

A couple minutes later I find Snow in the living room working at his computer. He still has my clothes on and I _love_ to see him that way first thing in the morning.

"Please let me give you something other than this stupid T-shirt."  I suggest.

"Good morning to you too." He looks at me and smiles. "Sorry I ended up in your bed last night."

Fuck. I forgot Snow sucks at pretending nothing happened. He is usually the opposite of that. Honest. Brave. Nothing like me.

"Yeah. Not my fault." I shrug.

"But you didn't kick me out." His smile becomes bigger.

"Believe me, I tried." I decided not to mention holding hands and everything. Not that there was _anything_ else. Except that I felt happiest since... Since forever. And also had the best sleep.

"Let's celebrate me not kicking you out by having some late morning breakfast. I can make some smoothies"

Snow looks at me with reproach.

"You know a smoothie is not a breakfast! It's barely a condiment!"

"Can we pretend for a moment that you might actually eat a normal food, Snow."

"We don't have to! Because I went down and bought us all of the cherry scones I could find."

He rushes to a tote bag on the table. He turns it upside down and out comes the craziest pile of breakfast I’ve ever seen. Well at least the craziest I have ever seen since I had a breakfast with Simon Snow.

The past kicks in and it feels like the first light blow of wind in a spring time. I remember one particularly sad morning, when I bought tons of food just to cheer him up. And then we took all of it to bed and spent all day just hanging there. That was one of the last days I remember exactly us been happy.

“This is a biggest number of scones I’ve seen since…” Snow gives me a fast glance.

“Since _that_ day” he says and I can tell by the glance he gives me, that we are thinking of the same day.

“You we so fat back then” I sneer.

“I was not!! You ate everything I ate anyway.”

“Yes, but I have the perfect Pitch’s metabolism”

“Come on, Baz do you always have to be the smartest bloke in room?”

“And do you always have to be the fattest?” Did I forget how good it is to tease Snow? I don’t think so. I look at his resentful face, he is even blushing a bit, but also smiling.  

The next thing I know, we are interrupted by a Skype video call, dragging our conversation back to the present day. The past is still the past.

"Oh, it's Penny!" Snow says and presses ‘Answer’. I can see Bunce on the screen. I roll my eyes; these two are always together even when there is an ocean between them.

"Hi, Simon! Hi ... Basilton."

I take a step back, to hide from the camera angle.

"I still can see you!"

"No you can't! Your magic is not _that_ powerful, Penny."

"I know you are in the room. How my boys are doing?"

I bet Bunce has a great pleasure out of it. I don't wanna interrupt these two or have any slightest idea about their little plans for the future. I nod to Snow.

"Tell her I’m going for a shower" I sneer and leave a room.

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

“Love at first sight

May sound trite

But it's true, you know

I could list the details

Of everything you ever wore

Or said, or how you stood the day”

Morrissey ” _Late Night, Maudlin Street_ ”

 

**Simon**

"So quickly, tell me how is everything." Penny whispers.

"You can speak in normal voice. Baz is currently in the shower. Everything is ok I guess. But he seems strange. And also... We slept in the same bed last night." I suddenly speak very fast and I blush and I know Penny can see. It starting to crawl up my cheeks and neck even though I try to hide it.

Penny rolls her eyes.

"I meant, how is everything with our project. Not ‘Please tell me the details of your sex with Basilton’"

"We didn't have sex." I blush again and she looks at me sternly.

"Ok you have five minutes to give me a quick update on the Baz situation and then we'll move on to our project. Five. Minutes"

"It's just... It was weird you know. I took the pills that you gave me and ended up sleeping on his bed. And then he came back..."

"Came back from where?" She interrupts. "Was he hanging around somewhere late at night?"

I can see that she is looking suspicious.

"Well he sort of has this late night job. He says he is bartending."

"Ha."

"Anyway I found him sleeping next to me in the morning. And now he is awake and acts like _nothing_ happened."

"I wonder is he bartending in a vampire bar." Penny frowns.

"I don't know. Maybe." I sigh, it's impossible to talk with her about feelings when she senses conspiracy or mystery.

"Can you find out?"

"Penny aren't you the one who always stopped me from shadowing Baz?"

"Yes, but it was before your ex grew up into probably most powerful magician-slash-vampire in world."

I shrug sceptically.

"Frankly he doesn't seem that way at all. As far as I can tell he mostly hangs on sofa and reads books."

"Pathetic. Anyway just watch out. And your 5 minutes dedicated to Basilton Pitch are over. Let's talk about business. How is our project coming along? Tell me."

"I had a great progress actually. The idea hit me in the morning when I was in bed with..."

"Grrrhm!" Penny gives me an angry look.

"Long story short, worked all morning on it, but some parts are still missing."

"Ok, but it has to be ready soon. I am coming Monday and we have to rock this meeting!"

"Yes, yes, I remember about the meeting."

"Just don't let _him_ mess you up. If it’s possible."

"See you, Pen" I wave to the webcam.

"And tell Basilton my congratulations on his new career. I can't wait to taste his Bloody Mary. I bet it delicious."  She says just before Baz steps out of the shower to hear it for himself.

"Oh believe me, it is!" He shouts just before Penny hangs up.

Baz gives me a gloomy look, but then a smile slowly appears on his face.

“So where were we?”

In your bed. Together. All morning. Holding hands. I clear my throat and swallow awkwardly.

“I guess we were about to have lunch.”

He nods and I see some of his hair falls down on his forehead. It is always such a pointless thing to try to pull it back. But he keeps doing it anyway. Still. I don’t know if it’s this kitchen or the night before, but I keep remembering _things_.

I watch Baz laying the table. After Penny’s words I wonder what his life has been like? And how powerful is he? It's not like I didn't ask myself all these questions whilst I’ve been away. It's not like I didn't worry. It's just that deep down I was always sure that he would make it anyway. But as far as I can tell his life is a mess right now, and for how long has it been going on?

"How was your shift yesterday?" I ask instead.

Baz gives me a fast look and shrugs.

"Usual shit. Are you and Bunce having some conspiracy theory about me already?" He narrows his eyes.

"Maybe. Can I go with you next time?"

" _No_." He looks at me angry as hell.

"Snow," he says after few seconds of silence, "it won't be a _good_ idea for you to go."

I wanna ask why. I wanna know what exactly he does at midnight. But mostly...

"I just wanna know that you are safe." I blurt out. I then blush and look down feeling awkward.

"As far as know my safety was none of your business for last  few years, was it?"

I look at him and his eyes are cold and grey. I try to tell him with mine that I _never_ stopped caring. But I guess I am a shitty psychic, because the message clearly was not received, and he just frowns and looks away.  Great, Simon, now you messed everything up, he is angry as hell and I am levels below the effortless morning vibe we just had. Am I crazy even, to assume that there was something earlier before?

He is standing hands crossed giving me one of his i-don’t-care looks which are so hard to break. I have a plan, a stupid one, but first of all it might encourage him to say something to me, and second it’s _almost_ what Penny asked me to do. Try and find out how powerful he might be.

"Baz" I swallow. "Can you help me do some _magic_?"

Before he says something sceptical in his Pitch-style I play a forbidden card, but it’s the only one I have anyway.

"Penny usually helps me with testing part, you know _I_ can't do _it_."

Baz raises his eyebrow. He knows I play dirty.

"Please." I try one more time.

"Ok. Fine. Whatever. But don't expect anything extraordinary from me. Not in my best form lately."

I don’t even care what that means. He said yes and I have a quality excuse to hang out together. I quickly open iMag and show him the output on the screen.

"You can pick any spell from the list."

He goes through the list with no interest on his face.

" _Picture yourself in a boat by the river._ " Baz reads in _normal_ voice. "What kind of a stupid spell is this? Did you put fucking Beatles lyrics in it?"

"Yes, why? iMag can produce spells from everything."

"It's highly dangerous to pronounce unknown spell out loud."

"It never stopped you before."

He grins.

"Let me check this list one more time."

Finally he grabs his wand, takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes. Just for a moment.

" **Lucy in the sky with diamonds**." He shouts finally.

I look at Baz, he looks at me.

"What exactly supposed to happen?" He asks.

"I don't know, maybe we should fly in the sky or something."

And then, it happens, the room shifts and a pleasant feeling rises up in my stomach. As if warm sun shines all over my body from the inside. I look at Baz, the spell definitely worked on him as well. He blinks in disbelief, his face is a mixture of wonder and fear. Next thing I know the sunshine is _too much_ , I can feel it tearing me apart.

"I think I need to sit down."

There is no chair near me, so I awkwardly lean on the wall and slide down on to the floor.

"Are you Ok?" Baz takes few steps towards me and then freezes as if he’s afraid to move forward. As if there is a wall between us.

"Actually I’ve never felt better myself" I give him a smile. He seems worried. But also like he’s unlocked his feelings and of his guard. Like he _cares_.

"You kind of look like your old self now" I say suddenly.

“And you look like you are high.” He sneers a bit. “Let me make you some tea. Just breathe. It will get better soon.”

And it does, the moment Baz passes me the hot cup of ginger tea and sits in front me.

“Congratulations Snow, you created a spell which _is_ a drug and probably is totally illegal”

“But it worked! _You_ made it work.” I pointed out.

He slightly shakes his head in disbelief as if it is not his magic right now inside of me. Inside of him. Like he didn’t just give me the _sky_.

Currently I know one thing. That I want more. More of him.

I reach out and put my hand on his arm. He shakes his head one more time, but I know that he wants more of me too. We are _Simon and Baz_ after all. Always have been.

I bend forward, grab his sweater and pull him closer. And then I kiss him. He shudders, but doesn't pull back. For a quick moment I have a feeling that he does _let me in_. But then it stops. Something goes wrong, he is unreachable even though we still share a kiss. I make another desperate try, pressing into him with my body still all over the floor. Trying to show him how things _might be_. And then I feel the push, the strong one. Which puts us far apart.

“Get off me. Now.” Baz strains through his teeth. I can’t say anything. I just don’t understand how things could go so terribly wrong. He is up on his feet. Cold. Distant. Cool. While I am all hot in embarrassment, too shocked to control my words.

“But I… I remember _everything_.” I finally say the thing that I should have said a long time before.

“I remember nothing.” He spits in a way which just _screams_ Tyrannus Basilton Pitch.

“Simon, look at me.”  He is standing tall over me, while I am all crumbling on the floor, falling apart. “I just don’t see you that way anymore.”


	6. Chapter 6

“I’ll drive that stake through the center of my heart

Lonely vampire

Inhaling its fire

I’m chasing the dragon too far

There’s blood on that blade

Fuck me, I’m falling apart

My assassin

Like Casper the ghost

There’s no shade in the shadow of the cross”

“No Shade in the Shadow of the Cross” by _Sufjan Stevens_

 

Baz

Simon Snow kisses me. He is all over me actually. He is so desperate like this is the only thing he _ever_ wanted. It is so much better than any of my fantasies. Each one of them that I had during these years. It’s real. But also I know: I cannot do it. I cannot fuck him. I cannot even touch him, because if I do, I will not only betray my five years of solitude, I will betray myself, or whatever this thing that’s left of me. I have only one rule left and it is: never touch him, not even dream of it. This is why I push Snow away.

“Simon, I just don’t see you that way anymore.” His name comes out easily not like all the other times, when I was too afraid to say it out loud. But I immediately regret these words, the moment I turn my back on him and focus on a spot on the floor where everything just happened. His face is still before my eyes, disappointed and sad. I used to protect him, not hurt him.

“I am sorry.” I say as I stare at my feet ashamed. I grab a jacket and rush out from the apartment.

It’s cold and windy outside, and it takes few minutes to light my fag. Especially with a _normal_ lighter. Obviously I cannot use a magic light right now on the street. There is still a feeling from _lucy in_ _the_ _sky with diamonds_ spell inside me. I didn’t think it would work, I didn’t think I could make anything work. I guess it worked just because he was expecting it from me. So strange that another person could be the reason you shine. And also the reason you fall down.

“ _Please let me go._ ” That’s what I should have said. My favourite prayer that I repeated for all these years before going to bed.

I inhale the smoke deeply and start walking. I need to cool down, I need to think, but mostly I need to forget. I don’t know how much time I was reeling around, but finally my pack of fags is over and I am cold and tired.

The bar is around the corner and I am glad my unconsciousness leads me here. Thanks God it is not my shift today, which means I can get fucking _loaded_.

There are only few people inside. I sit near the bar and order a drink and fries. I still don't eat in public, but I like the way the fries look near my glass of whiskey. The art of getting loaded is pretty simple, my rules are: look mostly in front of yourself and keep drinking.

On my third glass someone sits near me, grabs my fries and says in a voice similar to Simon Snow’s to bartender: “I will have what he has.”

“Are you sure you could handle a whiskey?” I barely turn my head to check if it's really him. He found me. Of course he did.

“Is this your bar?” Snow asks. And Crowley, I am not drunk enough to have this kind of a conversation. I quickly finish my drink and order another. And only then do I turn around and look at him. My mistake. His hair is a mess; it must have been the wind outside that did all the work. Also he is wearing _my_ jacket. I don’t ask how did he found me. _Obviously_ he followed me. It’s such a stupid thing to do, but also it is the exact thing that Simon Snow _would_ do. I bet it’s his and Bunce plan, to try to figure me _out._

“It’s not _my_ bar” I sneer. “And please don’t touch my fries.”

“The bartender just called you Baz. Do you work here?” Snow repeats and looks around as if he is about to see some kind of dark chamber with catacombs. Bet he is disappointed to face a basic hip place with wooden furniture and warm light.

Wait, what did he just ask me.

“Yes, Snow, I work here. Look.” I bend over the bar, grab a bottle and pour him a drink. And then put a glass near his hand. “Drink this. And stop asking stupid questions.”

“But why… Why didn’t you want me to come here? I don’t get it.” I see the incomprehension in his face. How cute. Simon Snow trying to figure the whole world out. “Is this a vampire bar?” He lowers his voice and looks around one more time.

“Yes. There is a vampire. And there is a vampire.” I start to point at every _normal_ person in a bar with my glass. My drink spills. But I don’t care. “The bartender is a vampire. And most important this one is a vampire!”

I point at myself and stand up. Guess I am a bit loud because some people give me a look.

“Please shut up!” Snow grabs me by the sleeve and pulls me back down. “Can we go outside? And talk.”

I slowly stand up and go to the back door as Snow follows me. I make a promise to myself. I’m not talking first, after all he’s the one who dragged me here. Everything shifts a bit, but I hope I can walk the straight line. Finally we go through “Staff only” sign to a cold windy backyard.

“So… Why did you follow me here?” Shit, I forgot that I had a plan to make him start first. Well, hell with that.

Snow shifts from one foot to another, nervously looking around. Then clears his throat.

“You said I shouldn’t see this place. Why? What's wrong with it?”

I start to laugh. Hysterically.

“Baz, stop! What’s so funny?” He frowns.

I lean on the wall and take a swig. A good one.

“I laugh because you came here planning to find a vampire bar. I laugh because you still search for a mystery around _every_ corner. I laugh because there is none, yet you never stop searching.”

I try to read his face; I guess he starts to _understand._

“The boring truth is that you thought you were shadowing a villain, but I am not that thing. I am just a drunk. Nothing more.” I notice he looks down. Well here I am, Tyrannus Basilton Pitch disappointing Simon Snow since, well since forever.

“Now it’s my time to ask the question.” I light my fag trying to look super casual. “Why did you leave _anyway_?”

“You know why,” he growls.

“Yes.” I take a deep breath of smoke. “I guess I was not enough of a mystery for you anymore. After all the years.”

I die inside, because I’ve just said it and because I know for a fact that it's _true_ . Although I would never say it out loud. If only he didn’t follow me all the way here, if only he wasn’t so _Simon._ “And I am certainly no mystery now.” I throw the fag away and put my hands deep into my pockets.

“ _Baz_. For somebody who reads a lot of books you are fucking stupid.”

I shrug. It’s old news. He takes a few steps towards me and puts his hands on my shoulders. “I left because I didn’t wanna get in the way of your stupid career, of your stupid future, of your stupid everything. I didn’t know that you would blow it all up.”

“Fuck you, Snow.” I am angry but also tired and trembling from the inside. (He is too close). The next moment when I look at him all I can see are his blue eyes. And I can’t do anything. I crumble:

“It doesn't matter how much I drink; I am still the pathetic one."

"No, you are not, _I_ am. And you are the most powerful one. Even Penny says that."

"I've been nothing good since you've been gone. Nowadays all I am capable of is to produce a fire big enough to light my fag. Sometimes I dream that I could produce a bigger one. Big enough to finish everything. But you left me dry. I can't do nothing. I am a fucking joke."

“Why... Why didn’t you visit me, not even once?” I see his face full of pain. And I really don't wanna tell him about the time I bought the airplane tickets to Unites States, but then got too drunk and missed the flight. Instead I grab him by the collar of a jacket and pull him closer. I give him a hard kiss, just to take all the sorrow away. I hear him moan and that drives me crazy. I can’t stop touching him, kissing him. Only now it's all slower, because time stops anyway. And I am too hooked up on him right now, to even to remember to breathe.

He pulls away for a moment just to say:

“Don't you dare push me away this time.”

I smile and pull him closer.

“Never.”


	7. Chapter 7

“I admire you, beloved, for the trap you’ve set. It's like a final chapter no one reads because the plot is over.”

_Meditation in Emergency_ by Frank O’Hara

 

Simon

We leave in a very inappropriate way. Baz basically hangs on me, while I make my way through the back door, through the bar (trying to pay the bill with one hand), and through the entrance onto the street. Baz goes through his pockets trying to find the pack of fags, that he finished a long time ago.

“Fuck. Snow, I can’t find my fags” He says finally.

“ _Simon._ ”

It’s funny to see him drunk. I mean he is so cute trying to walk in a straight line and then hanging on my shoulder. At least he doesn’t mind kissing me when he is like that. I mean he doesn’t mind anything because the next moment he is pressing me against a wall, then kissing me, while breathing in my ear “ _Simon_ , do you mind.”

He puts one arm under my jacket and then I feel his hands start to crawl under my sweater, touching my chest, my back. I don’t mind at all, furthermore I take his head in my hands and give him a kiss back. Because, oh my god, it’s _unfuckingbelievable_. He moans and then just repeats “Simon, Simon, Simon” each time he kisses my neck going lower, lower, lower till he is near my collarbone and his hand is underneath my belt. I just take a deep breath in and a deep breath out, because I have to bring him home first, and then I will let him do whatever he wants. (Yes, I want to do _everything_ to him as well).

“Baz, let us go home.” I put his hand around my shoulder and my hand around his waist, while catching the taxi with the other one. Finally we are in the cab and Baz leans against the window, so I think that he is asleep. But he mumbles very silently and I have to bend forward to hear what he is trying to say:

“Simon. Tell me.” he pauses. “Is it a dream?”

 

It’s my turn to be all over him when we are finally in our apartment. The room is dark, there are just some neon lights from outside, and his face seems so pale, except for his eyes which are alive and wide; I can drown inside of them. I run my fingers through his hair, giving it the slightest pull that makes him cast his head back. It is a perfect time to  kiss him on the spot under his ear, which drives him crazy (I know it does) and then I growl into his ear: “Does it feels like a dream now?”

And I feel he shudders under my hands, like my every move gives him a hint of pain or pleasure. And then his lips cover mine and I simply go crazy.

I push him on the couch tearing my jacket off, then he is tearing his jacket off, then I feel his lips all over my chest, I feel his hands undo my belt.

“Don’t stop.” I say as he goes lower and that’s the only thing I remember clearly before it all fades out in our bodies and breathes and infinity.

 

EPILOGUE

 

I walk into the bar where Baz works to pick him up after his shift. It’s been a week since _Baz’s Great Breakdown_ . Anyway it’s what I like to call it and Baz just rolls his eyes and says that nothing special happened. I know right, _typical_. Not much has changed really, well except for a few things. Like the fact that I can officially crash on his bed, which I do, every night (obviously). Even if he has a night shift I still sleep there, because I don’t wanna miss the moment when he crawls into the bed in the morning and I can hug him and we can fall asleep together.

Other news: my baggage arrived which gives Baz satisfaction to critique each one of my plaid shirts, which I _know_ he secretly loves anyway. I will miss wearing his clothes though. Now that I don’t have an official excuse, my access to Baz’s wardrobe is strictly forbidden.

When I walk in, there is already another bartender working, which means that Baz’s shift is over, but he still hangs around cleaning some glasses. I give myself a few moments to shamelessly stare at him: he is wearing a black shirt which is high buttoned (of course) and he looks just perfect. Finally, he notices me and gives me a lazy smile and I hope he can’t see me blush, because seriously seen him in that outfit, cleaning the fucking glass is a bit too much.

It’s my first time in this bar since _that_ evening and I feel a bit awkward. We left that day in a very classy way: me mostly dragging Baz out, because he clearly was not in a state of carrying himself out or caring enough about what other people might think.

Baz approaches me and I am still not sure how I should behave with him in public. Should I shake his hand? Give him a hug? Both things seem a bit _weird_.

“This is my _friend_ , Simon” he introduces me to another bartender and I shiver a bit inside from this ‘friend’ word. Like was I really just a _friend_ this very morning when he hugged me while I was making a coffee and said “Come on, let me take you back to bed.”

But my thoughts are interrupted because right after calling me a ‘friend’ he bends and gives me a kiss. In front of everybody. And I forget everything. Friends who can show PDA, well that's fine by me.

“Give my _friend_ here a drink” I say to the bartender.

“G and T, please” Baz grins.

“And make the G a double.” I add. I don’t mind him drinking. It’s not like a person can change in a week or in a month. I am just happy that we can hang out together. Also he _did_ change a bit: as for example I’ve noticed that he started play his violin again (he confessed that he hadn’t touch it in years).

“So the meeting went well, I assume?” Baz asks casually. I already texted him earlier at least ten texts with all the details, but I guess he doesn't mind to hear it once more. Long story short: the iMag was a success and Penny said that “It is the start of something awesome”. Also there is a secret that me and Baz share: a few nights before I caught  him fixing something in iMag while he thought I was sleeping. He denies everything, but I know he made some twist to make it work better. Crowley, he is so _smart_.

 

Later that night we are in our living room. It’s dark, so I can see the rain dripping outside. There are two empty cups of a tea on the table and shadows where blue light from the screen can’t reach. Baz just fell asleep while we were watching the documentary that _he_ picked. I mean, yeah, it’s about the Victorian Era so it’s hard not to fall asleep during it. He ended up with his head on my lap and I am afraid to move as I don’t want to wake him up. I reach for a blanket to cover him, thinking about how pissed he would be just imagining that this kind of a scene _actually_ took place. That thought makes me smile just like all the other times I think about him. I shift his hair a bit to see his face better and that is also among the things that I will never tell him that I ever did.

Meanwhile the rain outside magically transformed into snow, which is drifting in the air so slowly, that it seems that it almost _stuck_. I close my eyes, embracing the moment and the fact that my life can actually be _perfect_. At some moment of time, at some place. And I know by just looking at his face, that I am there already.

  
THE END.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, guys, it's was such a pleasure writing this story.  
> These two are just so perfect (as we all now).   
> The fact that someone read it or even liked any part of it, makes me so happy.
> 
> As you might notice from epigraphs I really like Frank O'Hara and his poem "Meditation In Emergency", so I will just post it here in the end to give you all my love.
> 
>  
> 
> Am I to become profligate as if I were a blonde? Or religious as if I were French? 
> 
> Each time my heart is broken it makes me feel more adventurous (and how the same names keep recurring on that interminable list!), but one of these days there’ll be nothing left with which to venture forth. 
> 
> Why should I share you? Why don’t you get rid of someone else for a change? 
> 
> I am the least difficult of men. All I want is boundless love. 
> 
> Even trees understand me! Good heavens, I lie under them, too, don’t I? I’m just like a pile of leaves. 
> 
> However, I have never clogged myself with the praises of pastoral life, nor with nostalgia for an innocent past of perverted acts in pastures. No. One need never leave the confines of New York to get all the greenery one wishes—I can’t even enjoy a blade of grass unless I know there’s a subway handy, or a record store or some other sign that people do not totally regret life. It is more important to affirm the least sincere; the clouds get enough attention as it is and even they continue to pass. Do they know what they’re missing? Uh huh. 
> 
> My eyes are vague blue, like the sky, and change all the time; they are indiscriminate but fleeting, entirely specific and disloyal, so that no one trusts me. I am always looking away. Or again at something after it has given me up. It makes me restless and that makes me unhappy, but I cannot keep them still. If only I had grey, green, black, brown, yellow eyes; I would stay at home and do something. It’s not that I am curious. On the contrary, I am bored but it’s my duty to be attentive, I am needed by things as the sky must be above the earth. And lately, so great has their anxiety become, I can spare myself little sleep. 
> 
> Now there is only one man I love to kiss when he is unshaven. Heterosexuality! you are inexorably approaching. (How discourage her?) 
> 
> St. Serapion, I wrap myself in the robes of your whiteness which is like midnight in Dostoevsky. How am I to become a legend, my dear? I’ve tried love, but that hides you in the bosom of another and I am always springing forth from it like the lotus—the ecstasy of always bursting forth! (but one must not be distracted by it!) or like a hyacinth, “to keep the filth of life away,” yes, there, even in the heart, where the filth is pumped in and courses and slanders and pollutes and determines. I will my will, though I may become famous for a mysterious vacancy in that department, that greenhouse. 
> 
> Destroy yourself, if you don’t know! 
> 
> It is easy to be beautiful; it is difficult to appear so. I admire you, beloved, for the trap you’ve set. It's like a final chapter no one reads because the plot is over. 
> 
> “Fanny Brown is run away—scampered off with a Cornet of Horse; I do love that little Minx, & hope She may be happy, tho’ She has vexed me by this Exploit a little too. —Poor silly Cecchina! or F:B: as we used to call her. —I wish She had a good Whipping and 10,000 pounds.” —Mrs. Thrale. 
> 
> I’ve got to get out of here. I choose a piece of shawl and my dirtiest suntans. I’ll be back, I'll re-emerge, defeated, from the valley; you don’t want me to go where you go, so I go where you don’t want me to. It’s only afternoon, there’s a lot ahead. There won’t be any mail downstairs. Turning, I spit in the lock and the knob turns.

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks for Apieceofpaper for been my beta


End file.
